Kill the groundhog.
Spring in Boston: when going outside is worse than it was in December. Those vernal winds, meant to bless the earth with life, greenery, and twitterpation, instead rip off the top two layers of skin of those foolish enough to bear their faces to the open air. Mating season is in the interest of warmth rather than romance, and the sky’s almost never been grayer. Perhaps we are in need of some ritual sacrifice to usher in true spring — maybe some Canadian kid who doesn’t notice the difference between life and utter, desolate waste.
There are a few things left to take advantage of before the beautiful weather makes us feel too guilty about staying inside: Game of Thrones premiers in 10 days (special Harvard premiere tonight in the Science Center!), the fourth season of Archer was recently added to Netflix, and we all probably have homework that wasn’t worked on over spring break. A trip to a museum is a nice alternate to sauntering through the streets of Boston (check out the feature on the MFA in this issue — the uncanny baby heads supposedly have giant knit caps now). The MFA and Isabella Stewart Gardner are always free to Harvard students, and the ICA and Children’s Museum take you to a highly underappreciated neighborhood of Boston (Seaport).
And we can remember fondly those beautiful days that still lie ahead, when we can tan and/or watch people tan in sunny courtyards, read books in a cascade of dogwood petals, and picnic in the parts of Boston Common not covered in duck excrement. Soon enough, wispy girls can wear lace, dorks can trade their fleeces for 2013 summer internship t-shirts, and embarrassing bros can don Chubbies. We’ll sit in the colorful Yard chairs as the warm spring breeze blows us swiftly and gently to the end of the semester.